Stranger Things Have Happened
by Phenatic Rabit
Summary: Even years after Blackwell, trouble is quite conveniently drawn to Max.


**After watching Person of Interest and Jessica Jones, I found myself needing to make some kind of (super)hero universe. This sort of works.**

...

Max was rudely awoken by her phone. She rolled over, cracked open an eye, and saw that the clock read ten in the morning. Way too early. She forced herself out of bed, anyway.

After a lukewarm shower, Max walked into the living room and saw that Chloe was already rooted to the couch, smoke clouds drifting around her head. She waved at her as she was heading to the fridge. Upon opening it, Max saw that there wasn't anything that could provide any sort of nourishment; she was sure that checking the cabinets would yield the same results.

"Did you and Randall eat all of our food again?" Max asked her roommate.

When there was no response, she turned around and saw Chloe's head was thrown over the back of the couch, gazing at her upside down. Chloe shrugged her shoulders, her lips curving into a bashful grin.

Max shook her head. "I will shop for groceries later. For now, I will get something from the gas station." She grabbed the truck keys and her hoodie. "You want the usual?" she asked, hovering just outside the door. Chloe gave her two thumbs up, and Max couldn't help but to shake her head again. "You're so hopeless."

"I'm hopeless without you, dude."

"Don't I know it. Try not to cause too much trouble while I'm gone."

Just after shutting the door, Max paused, because the door across from them was wide open.

In their nearly two years of residency, no one has ever lived there before. Chloe had joked that no one wanted to live in a place that was once a drug lab. Max didn't know if those rumors were true, but you truly had to be a desperate soul to stay in this apartment building.

Being the nosy person that she didn't like to admit that she was, Max tried to get a peek at their new neighbor, but the place was empty, save for a few packing boxes. Two men were moving to and fro from the apartment, but it was obvious that they were just hired movers.

 _Maybe I'll catch them later_ , Max thought, heading to the elevator.

…

One of the big pluses to having Chloe as a roommate was that Max herself had a form of transportation. That transportation was, unfortunately, Chloe's old pickup truck, but it was better than nothing. Although, sometimes _nothing_ was better than the worth the risk and worry of whether the thing would make it to her destination, what with its constant jerks and sputtering.

When Max made it to the gas station, her heart had stopped twice on the way. She left the damned truck rumbling and unlocked with the hope that someone would be desperate enough to steal it.

The clerk behind the counter smiled kindly at Max. She dipped her head in acknowledgment before heading straight for the drinks in the back, picking up a bag of hot chips on the way. She spent a moment contemplating which energy drink Chloe would want, soon settling on one of her favorites. She then grabbed a tea for herself and made her way back to the front.

A sudden demand of 'give me the money' caught her attention. Max had grown over the years, and she peered over the shelves to see the clerk with his hands held up, along with a hooded figure.

A robbery. Max cursed her luck.

With a heaving sigh, Max continued forward, making sure that her steps were heard. When the clerk spotted her, his eyes widened even further, and he shook his head.

The robber either followed his gaze or heard Max, because he whipped around, and then there was a gun pointing right at her. He looked young, younger than Max, too young for this sort of crime. He was shaking nearly as much as the clerk, and he shook even more as Max calmly and steadily walked forward.

"Hey! Stop! Can't you see that this-"

Max made a lazy motion like she was shooing the boy away. She approached the counter while he was reversing, tucking the gun out of sight, backing out of the door. She laid her items down. She had grabbed herself a warm biscuit and was counting out the money when time started up again.

The clerk visibly jumped, startled by her presence. He blinked rapidly at her, no doubt wondering if he was so out of it that she could just suddenly appear before him.

When Max just stared blankly at him, he cleared his throat and then scanned the items. "Will that be all for you?"

"Yup."

They completed the exchange. As Max was gathering her things, she said, "Call the cops."

Ignoring the clerk's confused inquiries, Max made it to the door in time to see the would-be robber reaching for the handle. She kicked the door, and the edge slammed hard into the boy's face.

Max walked to where he was lying on the ground, whining, crying, clutching his bloody nose, and she kneeled, digging her knee into his chest. She reached into his coat and pulled out the gun. Checking the magazine showed that it was empty, and she tsked.

"The next time you're thinking of doing something this stupid, remember me."

Max clocked him in the temple with the butt of the gun, successfully knocking him out. After laying the weapon down, she stood. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the clerk watching her from behind the door with wide, disbelieving eyes.

"Call the cops," she tiredly repeated, before dragging her feet to the hackling pickup truck.

...

The door across from them was closed, but there was some large packing boxes outside, and Max then realized why Randall was lurking down at the end of the hall.

Randall lived upstairs. He had become fast friends with Chloe, hung out with them sometimes, a cool guy, but Max knew from experience that possessions had a knack of disappearing when he was around for too long without supervision.

Max couldn't seem to catch a break. It was like everywhere she went, trouble was, quite literally, just around the corner.

Sighing, Max went to the door and knocked twice. It wasn't until the fifth knock that she heard an exclamation of 'coming" followed by hurried steps. The door swung open, revealing an out of breath blonde wrapped in a red robe, her long hair and olive skin still dripping with water.

Max tried hard not to stare at where the robe parted, and instead pointed to the boxes at her feet.

"Are these yours, ma'am?"

"Oh!" The woman exclaimed, looking down at them. "I thought the movers had everything inside." She tucked a stray hair behind her ear and moved for them, only to stop when Max didn't move. Max herself didn't realize just how hard she was staring until the woman caught eyes and then stared until she flushed under her scrutiny. "Caulfield?"

Max frowned. "How do you-" It took her a moment, but she finally recognized those questioning dark eyes. "Victoria."

Max couldn't believe it, but the woman, Victoria, nodded and smiled tentatively. "Hey. Yeah. Wow, this is weird. What are the odds that we both end up in Seattle, living across from each other again?"

"Slim to none," Max mumbled to herself.

Victoria either didn't hear or chose to ignore it. "Thank you, by the way; you saved me from a potential disaster."

"It's no problem."

Victoria smiled again, genuinely, and then made a move to the boxes.

"Let me help," Max quickly offered, and she couldn't tell if it was because of her ingrained kindness, or because, wow, it was Victoria freaking Chase.

Victoria nodded. Max handed her a box before grabbing one herself and following her inside. The apartment looked almost as bad as her own. Definitely not the kind of place she would picture for Victoria, but a few years could really change a person.

As Victoria was putting her things down, Max could tell that she was trying very hard not to bend too far forward, least Max got a peek at something she shouldn't have. Not that Max was looking.

Her legs sure went on for miles.

"You should go change," Max suggested out of courtesy. Her face felt hot, and she was lucky that Victoria wasn't looking her way. "I'll bring the rest of your stuff in."

Max was already out of the door before the woman could think to answer. In the hall, Max looked over and saw that Randall had crept a little closer. She pinned him down with a hard glare and shook her head. Randall at least had the decency to look sheepish, and with a wave, he disappeared around the corner.

Max piled the boxes up before hauling them inside. Victoria was was waiting for her, in grey sweats; she was toweling her hair.

"Thanks again. You didn't really have to tell me about the boxes."

Max shrugged. "If there's ever a problem, believe that I will be there to fix it."

"So you haven't changed one bit, huh?" It was a statement without scorn or malice; Victoria even grinned to take the edge off. "It's been, like, what, two years since Blackwell?"

"Nearly three." Max shuffled her feet, scratched her arm, glanced around. There was nothing to stare at, and their was an awkward pause before she dragged her eyes back to the blonde.

Victoria's lips were pursed together; she appeared to be trying to stifle her amusement.

Max was running out things to curse for her mountainous luck. "You look good," she commented, which felt lame.

"You do too. I like what you did with your hair."

Max ran a hand through her hair subconsciously. It still felt weird to have so little. "I don't know if pixie is really for me, but thanks."

Victoria had pulled her own hair into a low ponytail. Max didn't say it outloud, but she liked it. A lot.

She hoped that her gawking wasn't as noticeable as she feared it was.

Victoria looked down at the plastic bag in Max's hands. "Is that your breakfast?" She asked, mirth causing the curve of her mouth to twitch.

"Uh, yeah. And Chloe's. I room with her, now, and Rachel lives there on occasion. Maybe we can all hang out some time."

Max didn't really mean to extend such an offer without talking to her roommates first, but Victoria's smile was so bright, and she looked so hopeful at the prospect of spending time with her.

 _Them_ , Max mentally corrected with a grimace.

"I would really like that," Victoria said.

Max smiled and hoped that the blonde couldn't hear her heart hammering away in her chest. She didn't really want to leave, but there really wasn't anything that Max could do or say at the time, so she made her move to leave.

"Be seeing you, Victoria."

Max saw her wave just before she turned.

"Au revoir."

…

Chloe was in the exact same spot from when she'd left her. Her roommate lifted her head upon hearing the door closing.

"Maxius!"

"I got your favorites." Max knocked down Chloe's feet and then plopped down heavily next to her. She took out her items before passing the bag over. "I met our new neighbor, and you'll never believe who it was."

Chloe turned to her. Her eyes were so glazed that Max wondered if she could really see her, or if she was merely responding to her voice. "Who?"

"Victoria Chase."

"You're shitting me." Max shook her head. "Damn. Holy shit, dude. She still a hardass?"

"Maybe."

"Still hot?"

Max scoffed, because that was truly an understatement, "She's even more gorgeous, if that is even possible."

Chloe cackled. "And you still have a hugo crush on her; that's fucking adorable."

"I do not," Max declared unconvincingly, elbowing her friend.

"Ow! Do too." Chloe whined when Max elbowed her again. "And here I thought you were over your lady crush. Oh man, I kind of wished that I was there just so I could see you drooling all over her."

"Don't be so crass," Max stated, her face scrunching into a disgusted scowl, and Chloe held on the fact that she neither confirmed nor denied her assumption. The blush in her cheeks gave it away as well. "How did you know about that, anyway?"

"Know what? That you had mad hots for the mean girl? I didn't have to go to Blackwell to know that you were fawning over her like a puppy. Besides, I heard it in your voice when you would call me just to complain about her."

"That's the last time I confide to you for anything," Max stated, weakly, because they both knew that that wasn't true.

Chloe had finished her snacks and had sprawled her feet across Max's lap when the brunette said, "I ran into a robber at the gas station."

Her roommate wasn't at all surprised, and Max wasn't even surprised that she wasn't surprised, because Max running into and or causing trouble was a common occurrence, ever since her time at Blackwell.

"How did you take them out this time?" Chloe asked as she flipped through the channels.

"Slammed the door into his face, and then I knocked him out with his own weapon."

Chloe slowly nodded her head in what may have been admiration. "That's my girl."

Silence, then Chloe suddenly snorted. Max wouldn't even have commented on it if it weren't so _deliberate_.

"What now?" Max asked, the sigh apparent in her tone.

Chloe shrugged, like it was nothing. But it wasn't nothing, and moments later, she began with a drawl, "Well... you mentioning news about your ex-arch rival before a robbery really says something."

Max rolled her eyes. "I'm not about to get into this."

"Yeah. I know whom you would rather get into."

"That was terrible."

"You're terrible. I'm telling you, dude, it's like the fates are coinciding and shit. This is the biggest sign that you should hop on that train before it leaves the station."

"What does that even mean?"

"It means," Chloe started, flicking Max hard on her forehead, "get your shit together and confess your love for Chase before you lose the opportunity again."


End file.
